I woke up at the sound of birds singing. Well, they were ravens more exactly, and the sound they made wasn’t really beautiful, only strident. But it was strangely calming, because it wasn’t what I was used to hear.
I opened the window and looked outside. The sky, grey and full of clouds, was indicating it was going to rain. The wind was causing the last tree leaves to fall, making the forest look desolated and cold. I looked up to the tree next to my window. Four black ravens were fighting on its branches. They had to be the ravens that woke me up.
I walked to where my outfit was lying. When I finished dressing, I drank some coffee, grabbed my notebook and exited the room. I walked to the little hotel’s entrance, and went outside. I opened the notebook and started writing random things I was seeing while I walked.
When you’re a writer, it’s very important to travel to get inspiration. That’s why I was in that little town next to Manhattan. At this early hour nobody was awake. I enjoyed the silence of the morning.
Suddenly, the forest ended at the entrance of the little town. I didn’t let it bother me though, and continued walking. I wrote in my notebook the words “raven cycle”, that just popped in my mind.
Lost in my thoughts, I stopped walking, and looked up. In front of me was a tall wall, all painted with graffities, and in the middle of the mess, it was written: “Welcome to Cabeswater”.
Welcome to Cabeswater, Maggie Stiefvater. An Autobiography